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“God save me,” Hetty whispered.
She opened her mouth and, without thinking about what she was doing, or the possible repercussions, screamed. She kept one hand on the shawl over her head, and lifted her hand off her side, which was now liberally smattered with the pig’s blood that had burst out of the pouch she carried.
Women around her suddenly screamed, as someone else shouted.
“There he is. He has stabbed her. Get him,” Mabel screamed loudly.
Hetty screamed again, and tightened her grip on the second pouch of pig’s blood, which added to the rapidly growing stain on her dress.
“It was him,” she screamed, and began to stagger dramatically. She pointed in a random direction through the crowd, toward the side of the gallows where the jailers stood.
The already frenzied crowd bayed and shouted at one of the jailers, who stared around him in confused panic. The crowd surged and began to jostle each other as they tried to get a better view, and escape the threat of danger. People looked at Hetty, and exclaimed loudly at the sight of her blood soaked dress.
“Murderer on the loose,” a man shouted frantically. “He is over there.”
Hetty screamed again and looked down at her blood soaked hands. Now that she had started, all of the fear, worry, and sheer terror that had dogged her every footstep over the last few days suddenly surged forward. It felt exhilarating to be able to release the chaotic emotions that had swamped her of late, and she screamed again with such angst that the crowd began to run.
She glanced at the hooded figures of Simon and Charlie, and the nooses that hung threateningly behind them, and screamed louder. Hatred for Cedric Meldrew suddenly bubbled forward and she began to look at people around her.
“It was him,” she screamed, and pointed to an empty spot beside one of the jailers with a hand that dripped blood.
“Why are the jailers not doing anything?” someone cried.
“There is a killer on the loose. A killer is on the loose,” she screamed over and over again.
“Catch that killer,” an old man beside her shouted.
People screamed and panicked, and began to run in all directions. Men tried to help women and children out of the crowd, but were wrenched aside by blood soaked people who were splattered by the rest of the pouches Wally and Mabel carried and shook everywhere.
Two of the jailers nearest to the scaffold were swept along by the veritable tide of people who surged toward them. A huge swathe of people suddenly pushed toward the scaffold. The hangman vanished within seconds, along with the rest of the jailers.
Hetty screamed over and over, and wished now that she had brought more pig’s blood. The weight of the people around her was suffocating, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the condemned, who were completely unable to see what was happening. Everything within her was locked onto the sight of them.
Inwardly, she was silently begging for the nooses not to be put around their necks. Thankfully, there was no sign of the jailers, or executioner but, to her growing horror; the prisoners were s
till standing on the trap doors – waiting.
She glanced around frantically for someone she recognised.
Why the hell nobody was getting them down?
She was helpless to do anything except be carried along by the tide of panicked humanity that swarmed around her. For a brief moment she thought she caught sight of Mabel, but she was gone so swiftly that Hetty couldn’t be sure it had really been her friend.
As she was carried down the road, her gaze locked on the sight of Charlie still waiting for death to call, and began to pray.
Charlie could see nothing because of the hood that covered his head. He was blind to everything other than panicked screams, and wondered if the first of the convicts had been dropped. He swallowed and began to pray aloud as he waited for the inevitable tightening around his neck. He could only hope that Wally would be true to his word, and had actually arranged for someone to hang off his ankles like he had requested.
The quicker the next few moments were over now the better as far as he was concerned.
He began to recite the Lord’s Prayer, and could hear Simon also praying quietly beside him.
When hands suddenly grabbed him around the waist, he jerked and gasped but, to his shock, he was yanked backward, clean off his feet. He couldn’t kick his legs out because they had been tied together and was helpless to do anything except be carried away – somewhere. He tried not to panic, but it was difficult as he was pummelled in all directions and completely helpless to the unseen hands that carried him.
Was he being taken through the crowd, or back to jail?
“What the hell is going on?” He growled as he tried to quell his own panic.
If only someone would take the hood off so he could see, he would feel considerably better. The noise of the people around him was incredible. He suspected that the men carrying him couldn’t hear him because nobody bothered to answer. They held him so tightly that he couldn’t move.
